“Come on, Dad, charge up!”
“I can’t, we have to liquefy it.” He grabs his spear and our kill for the day, a few rabbits and a beaver, nothing special.
My father looks at me now, but not with the same glare of pride. “Playing with water, hmm?”
How did he know?
“Your eyelashes are sparkling.”
I look down; my cheeks are as red as the leaves. I wait for him to continue, but he doesn’t. I look to the sky for help, but the birds even seem to turn away. “Am… am I in trouble?”
He scratches his beard.
“You are a daring little six year old, taking after your old man.”
I take it as a compliment.
We sprint back to the border where we exchange our hunt for Charge. My father unfolds his sleeve for the syringe to penetrate his wrist. I watch the golden liquid course through his veins, it runs underneath the light hairs peaking out of his arm. “Beep.” He is granted eighteen percent, eighteen for a family of five. I open my mouth to scream at the guard, to make him pay us more. My father holds me back with a cautionary look, his blue eyes are stone cold.
I glare at the guard on the way through the doors, until he catches my eye. “Shoot,” I mutter as I wipe my lashes.
He saw the droplets.
This snippet marks the end of my prologue. Now we get into the real story. Again, let me know if you guys have any comments, questions or suggestions. I don’t live in fear of critique.